First Date
by skimmy77
Summary: "Oliver believes he can finally have a private life and asks Felicity out on a date." How it could happen. First in Dating Series. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

It was a relatively quiet week in Starling City. So far the Arrow only made a few appearances, mostly to stop petty thugs and criminals. Diggle had gone home for the night to be with Lyla, and Roy took over Oliver's patrol for the rest of the night. Oliver took advantage of the stillness to sharpen his arrows, letting the hum of the grindstone settle his mind in meditation.

There were too many horrible experiences during the 5 years he was away. One of the very few positive things he learned how to do was meditate. He vividly remembered kneeling with Shado, emptying his mind of his thoughts and worries, and engaging his 5 senses to the environment around him. He would listen to the rustle of leaves in the wind, the cacophony of nighttime wildlife, the flickering of the fire, each of Shado's inhales and exhales, coupled with his own. He would feel the earth beneath his shins, below his feet, Shado's fingers holding his, the heat of the fire beside them, the wind on his face, ruffling his hair. He would smell the fragrant burning wood, the smoke from the fire, the abundance of green vegetation, Shado's subtle scent of earth and sweat and…something else, something intoxicating. His eyes would be closed, but he would notice each and every phantom light behind his eyelids, tracing each pattern. He would taste the air as he breathed, the flavor of smoke and earth.

It was usually at this point that his mind would inevitably wander to remember Shado's various flavors. He would remember the flavor of her lips, her tongue, taking on whatever they had eaten for dinner. He would remember the taste of her sweat on her body, earthy but pleasant. His saliva glands would wake up at the memory of her _flavor,_ clean and tangy, as he brought her skillfully to orgasm. More often than not, their mutual meditation would end with them making love by the fire.

Oliver paused his task of sharpening arrows and shook himself from his thoughts. That was the first time he thought about Shado without the burden of guilt and shame, but with heat and nostalgia instead. _Hmm,_ he hummed internally. _I wonder if that means something._

"Everything okay?" Felicity asked, breaking through his thoughts. Oliver turned in his seat to look at his partner. She had stopped whatever she was doing, and was currently looking at him with concern.

The corners of Oliver's lips ticked upward, feeling a warm sensation in his chest at the fact that Felicity always noticed the state of his emotions.

"Yeah," Oliver replied, reassuring Felicity that he was in a good mood. Felicity returned his smile with one of her own. The warm sensation intensified. "I was just thinking."

Felicity tilted her head and regarded him curiously. "About what?"

Oliver hesitated. He wanted to tell her about his little epiphany, except he wasn't sure he had the words yet to adequately explain.

Felicity must have sensed his reluctance, as she backpedaled. "I'm sorry," she blurted, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But, I'm here if you want to talk…if you want to tell me about your day." She followed this up with a little lopsided smile.

Oliver huffed a laugh. "Thank you," he said with a lopsided smile of his own. "I do want to tell you, but I have to do a little more thinking first."

Felicity smiled brightly and nodded. "Okay." She turned back to her computers.

Oliver's gaze lingered on his beautiful partner. She had decided to leave her hair down today, which always pleased him. She always looked softer with her hair down, more feminine. She was wearing one of his favorite dresses on her, the one that crisscrossed in the back and showed off a significant amount of skin that threw off his equilibrium. The last time she wore this dress, she had worn a pair of knee-high boots, which had adorned her legs gorgeously. Today she went with a pair of dark heels, which only succeeded in making her legs look like they went on for days. His eyes took in those gorgeous legs, toned yet soft calf muscles, the likely sensitive valley of the back of her knee, and a teasing hint of thigh. More than anything he wanted to walk over to her, squat beside her and touch the hem of her dress, to move it upwards to see more of her thigh…

Oliver slammed his eyes shut and quietly took a deep breath. He turned back to the grindstone abruptly and shook his head a little. _Woah, there,_ he chastised himself. _Rein it in._

He picked up another arrowhead and continued his task. He stilled his mind and let his senses take over. He concentrated on the vibration in his fingers, the smell of grinding metal, the hum of the grindstone. Further out in his awareness he heard the _click-clack_ of Felicity's fingers flying over her keyboard, and the occasional tapping of her feet. If he stretched his sense of smell further he could just barely smell Felicity's perfume, a heady mix of berries, vanilla, and something floral.

As he meditated, his mind wandered to his partner…his friend…again. He imagined that it was Felicity kneeling with him in meditation. He imagined holding her hands. He imagined feeling his knees against hers. He imagined leaning forward to touch his forehead against hers, their breath mingling together.

His heart clenched at the picture his mind created. God, he wanted Felicity so much. He wanted to correct her misconception that he had lied about the 'I love you.' He knew that on some level, he had hurt her, and he wanted nothing more than to make it up to her. He thought about how he could possibly begin to make amends.

He could always tell her he wasn't lying, but he wasn't sure he was ready for that. He couldn't take it if she doubted him. He had to show her, instead.

_I could woo her,_ his mind provided, the thought seemingly coming from nowhere. Now, that was something. Before Slade, before Merlyn, he felt it was safer for Felicity to be as far away from him, emotionally speaking, as possible. Not only was their life fraught with danger, he knew that he was damaged goods, and there was no way he could give her the kind of relationship she deserved. Now, though…

He thought about his epiphany. Did the fact that he could think about Shado without pain mean he was healing, somehow? Was he ready to leave some of the darkness behind, and step towards the light? The light that mostly came from Felicity? He thought about Sara's words to him, that he needed someone who could harness the light inside him. Could he let go of his past and let Felicity lead him forward, to a happier future?

He thought about their nighttime activities. As of late, things were quieting down. Crime was at an all-time low, and the people of Starling City felt safer than they had in years. Officially, he was no longer a hunted man by the SCPD. Captain Lance had called off the manhunt, and the Arrow could do what he does without fear of imprisonment. He tentatively felt safe…saf_er_…than he had in a while. He didn't think he could ultimately trust this feeling to last too long, since he was always going to have enemies, but for the first time in a long time, he had hope.

Enough hope, maybe, to go after something he had been denying himself for too long. Hope enough to pursue something more with Felicity. Hope enough to act on his feelings for his intelligent, beautiful, talented partner. He knew that once he started, he would never be able to go back to how it was, but he thought it might be worth it. What he and Felicity had, he couldn't name, but he knew it was significant. Important. A very tiny voice in his mind whispered that it could be a forever kind of thing, but he brushed that thought off as quickly as it came. That was definitely not something he could handle right now.

Before he could change his mind, he stopped the grindstone and put down the arrowhead. He got up from his seat and walked over to Felicity's desk. Leaning back against her desk, facing away from the computers, he crossed his arms to contain his sudden bout of nervousness and looked down at his partner.

Her fingers paused in her work and she looked up at him in surprise. "Oliver!" she yelped. "I didn't even hear you walking this way, give a girl some warning!"

Oliver smiled. "Sorry," he apologized, not really meaning it.

Felicity gave a little laugh. "No you're not," she deduced correctly.

It was Oliver's turn to laugh. "No, I'm not."

Her fingers did a few more things on the keyboard, and then she turned her chair towards him and gave him her full attention. "What's up?"

Oliver tightened his arms across his chest. His heartbeat picked up and he suddenly felt like running away, but he had made a decision and he was going to follow through. "So," he started, "I was thinking." He paused before continuing, gathering his courage.

One of Felicity's eyebrows arched. "I know," she said wryly. "You said so."

Oliver shook his head, smiling. "That's not what I meant. Um…" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

Felicity's other eyebrow joined the first. "So, you were thinking…" she supplied, trying to be helpful.

"Right, so I was thinking…" God, why was this so hard? "You should have dinner." _What?_

Felicity blinked. "What?"

Oliver slammed his eyes shut. _Idiot!_ "With me!" he blurted. He let out a tense breath. "You should have dinner with me. I mean, I would like to, dinner sometime…" _Jesus, get a grip!_ "Would you like…I would like to take you to dinner. With me." _God, is this how she felt when she babbled?_

Felicity slowly smiled, then pressed her lips together. She looked like she was trying to contain laughter. "Dinner?" she asked, her voice quavering just a little. "You mean, like a date?"

Oliver looked down at his feet and smiled from ear to ear. "You'd think I'd be better at this," he murmured to himself. Of course, Felicity didn't miss his remark. He responded to her question. "Yes, like a date."

The silence between them stretched out a bit, right up to the edge of discomfort. He didn't dare look at Felicity just then, not wanting to see any hint of rejection or doubt in her eyes. He was very relieved, however, when he heard her response.

"I would like that," she said softly.

He finally looked at her. He took in her soft smile and the sparkle of happiness in her eyes. That warm feeling in his chest from earlier came back with a vengeance. That he was the cause of that look on her face gave him an incredible sense of joy. "Tomorrow night," he decided. "We'll take the night off, let Dig and Roy handle things here. I'll pick you up at 7."

Her smile turned into a grin. "Okay," she said happily. "Should I dress up?"

"Definitely," he replied. He was looking forward to see what she would come up with. She was always beautiful, but a dressed up Felicity was truly a sight to behold.

He gently put a hand on her shoulder. "You should head home for tonight. I'll cover Roy."

She gazed into his eyes a little longer, silently thanking him for taking this momentous step. She nodded, and then packed up her things. "Call me if you need me for anything," she said, leveling a gaze at him.

He nodded his agreement, and then contentedly watched her as she went home for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a time, a very long time ago, when Felicity thought she wanted to stay in her safe little bubble as Queen Consolidated's IT girl. She remembers saying that after Walter was found, she wanted to go back to her normal, boring life. At the time, it felt like a pretty good life. She was good at her job, and she knew it. She knew that her supervisor knew it; hell, she knew that Walter Steele, CEO of Queen Consolidated, knew it. She felt in control of her life. Her love life may have been a different story; most men didn't know what to do with her. She was quirky, sure, but she was also super intelligent and not afraid to speak her mind, while possessing the looks and body of a "nice" girl. Girl-next-door kind of nice. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing…she'd rather be a girl-next-door than a trashy Vegas cocktail waitress…oh, burn!...but the thing about her was that she was more than her looks let on. She could get down and freaky with the best of them…under the right circumstances…and probably a lot of tequila…what was she thinking about?

Oh, normal, boring life. Right. Now that she had a taste of adventure and justice and crime fighting and doing the right thing for the greater good, normal and boring wasn't as appealing as it used to be. Yet, here she was, schlepping on the internet because there really was nothing better to do. She was stuck on level 350 on Candy Crush, (someone please unplug her from this game, it is a never ending vortex of entropy) wasting time on mindless games because things had been almost preternaturally quiet in the city. She should feel bad. She shouldn't want to find trouble, or get excited each time the police scanner reports something unusual. She should be happy that Starling City is pretty safe these days, and she should be proud that she had played a significant part in it, but the unrelenting truth was that she was bored.

It probably comes with the territory, being a genius and being bored. It takes a lot more stimulation for a genius...not _that_ kind of stimulation, although, she would definitely accept that kind of stimulation…especially from a stubborn, trying-to-be-noble jack-ass of an ex-billionaire…

The grinding sound that had been running in the background had abruptly stopped. _Oh my god,_ she panicked. _Please, please, please tell me I didn't say that out loud!_

She looked over at Oliver, already blushing in anticipation of being embarrassed, but Oliver wasn't looking at her. He was just sitting, eyes front, staring off into space, with an arrowhead in his hand. He looked like he was deep in thought, and she could see from his profile that he had a slight frown.

"Everything okay?" she ventured, trying to pull him out of his head.

Oliver turned in his chair to look at her, and after a beat, smiled. "Yeah," he replied, his smile widening just enough to show off his dimples. She _really_ loved his dimples. They made an appearance so rarely, and when they did, they always took her breath away.

"I was just thinking," he continued.

Always the curious one, she asked, "About what?" Except his eyes shuttered, just a tiny bit, probably not noticeable to the average person, but Felicity was an expert on all things Oliver. He didn't want to say, which meant his thoughts probably involved the island. _Good going, Felicity,_ she berated herself.

Wanting to give him an out and also wanting him not to shut down, she quickly backtracked. "I'm sorry! You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." There, out given. But she also wanted him to know she was there for him. "But," she continued, "I'm here if you want to talk…if you want to tell me about your day," she said, smiling, referencing the day he had told her the same thing, oh so long ago.

He seemed to pick up on the reference. He laughed. "Thank you," he said sincerely, smiling back at her. Then he surprised her. "I do want to tell you."

Oh. That's different.

"But I have to do a little more thinking first."

Well, she thought with a smile, she could give him space for that, no problem. "Okay," she nodded.

She turned back to her computers. She thought about going back to her stupid game, but she felt Oliver's eyes on her. She didn't want to look bad in front of him, so she ignored the game in favor of checking her feeds. She was better off, anyway. Might as well look for trouble. You know, to keep the city safe, not to look for excitement or anything.

She scrolled through her notifications, one by one, at a pace that lulled her into a zen-like state. She felt like she had switched one brain numbing game for another. The sound of Oliver sharpening his arrows provided white noise, further contributing to her altered state of consciousness. One by one, she considered and then dismissed each piece of information as innocuous. Every once in a while, something a little more interesting would catch her eye, and she would flag it for further research later.

Ugh, this was so boring. She was bored. She was going to fall asleep going at this pace. There had to be a better way. An easier way to go through all this boring crap…

That was it! She perked up immediately. She would create an algorithm to weed out the boring stuff and only give her the exciting stuff. The only risk in doing that was that she might miss something, but she'd much rather spend time coding than slogging through hundreds of notifications.

Felicity's fingers flew faster over the keyboard with excitement. She loved writing code, challenging herself to create whatever her mind could come up with, limited only by her imagination. She tapped her feet to a song that was stuck in her head. She even danced a little in her chair. She snuck a glance back at Oliver, checking to see if he caught her dancing, but he was in his own zen state.

Her mind wandered to her brooding friend. It was probably the island he was thinking about. But then again, maybe it wasn't. He didn't seem too upset, just thoughtful. So he wasn't thinking of something painful, which left out the island. He didn't look guilty or angsty, so it wasn't his family. Was he thinking of someone in particular?

An unnerving thought came unbidden into her mind. Maybe he was thinking about Laurel. She knows his secret now, so that meant he could be close to her again. It made a certain amount of sense. If he was thinking about Laurel, it would explain the smiles, the thoughtfulness. Now that his life was not as dangerous as it was previously, he could entertain the idea of being with someone he could really care about.

Felicity's current train of thought brought with it a wave of melancholy. When he had given her that line, she had really thought he was talking about her. She shook her head. That's just crazy thinking. Laurel was his soul-mate, his endgame, his forever kind of love. How could Felicity, the geeky girl-next-door with perpetual foot-in-mouth syndrome possibly measure up? She couldn't mingle with high society like Laurel. She would stick out like a sore thumb. She and Oliver just didn't make sense, as much as she wanted him.

Okay, she could admit it now. She wanted him. She wanted to be the one he poured out his soul to. She wanted to hold his hand through all his dark places, help him carry his burdens. She wanted to ease his suffering, lighten his load. And, okay, fine, she wanted him for more…physical…reasons. She has eyes, after all. And a dirty mind. Which, unfortunately, never stopped, and also frequently escaped her brain's non-existent filter to her mouth. All. The. Time.

Movement in her peripheral vision startled her. "Oliver!" she cried out. She clapped a hand over her heart. "I didn't even hear you walking this way, give a girl some warning!" Of course she didn't hear him, she was thinking very hard about...his…hard…oh boy…what was he saying? Oh, he was sorry. But he was smiling. So he wasn't really sorry.

"No, I'm not."

What? Did she say that out loud?

She needed to get her act together. Oliver was clearly ready to talk, and she needed all her wits about her to be the friend he needed. She took a few moments to save her work, focusing on her breathing and regaining her composure. When she felt a little more in control of herself, she turned to face him attentively. "What's up?"

She took in his posture, which came across as defensive, or self-protective. Or, maybe, nervous? Was he nervous about talking to her about Laurel? She was determined to not be jealous, but completely supportive, no matter what.

"So," he began, "I was thinking."

He stated it like a complete sentence, like he was telling her what he had been doing. She raised a confused eyebrow. "I know," she teased. "You said so."

Oliver shook his head, smiling. "That's not what I meant."

Apparently she misread his statement, because he didn't mean it as a statement. He was going to talk to her about what his thinking produced. Which she already had an idea about. When he didn't continue, she decided to help him out. "So, you were thinking..." She mentally added the words 'dot dot dot.'

"Right," Oliver continued. "So I was thinking…" Another pause. "You should have dinner."

Felicity blinked.

Her mind could not connect what he just said to anything at all. He might as well have spoken in Russian for all the sense he had just made. "What?"

Oliver closed his eyes, then blurted, "With me!"

Felicity blinked again. _What the heck is going on?_ She tried to follow what he was saying…actually, he seemed to be babbling right now. She recognized the words as English, but her brain couldn't comprehend what was happening. When he finally fell silent, she played back his last sentence in her mind.

_I would like to take you to dinner with me._

Was…was he…asking her out? As in, out on a date? This is what his thinking produced? So…

A smile slowly crept onto her face. He was thinking about her? He was thinking about her! And then he was nervous! He was nervous about asking her out, and then _he babbled!_ She tried to contain her joy, because she felt like jumping up and hugging him right then and there. She felt like laughing out loud and dancing in her chair and jumping up and down like a ridiculous fangirl.

Outwardly, she tried her best to stay cool. "Dinner?" she asked, her voice trembling just a tiny bit. _Darn, keep calm girl._ "You mean, like a date?"

Oliver looked down and smiled, mumbling something about being better at this, and she finally found her footing in this conversation. For once, she wasn't the insecure one.

"Yes," Oliver clarified, "like a date."

She wasn't used to being the more confident one, at least not in romantic situations, and she thought about teasing him a little bit, playing it off as casual. But then she took in his demeanor. He wouldn't make eye contact with her, and his arms were still wrapped around his body, like he was barely holding himself together. Like he was expecting to be rejected.

Her heart softened. She didn't think he could take any teasing right now. So she decided to be gentle with his heart. She realized what a gigantic step this was for him. He was so used to protecting his heart from everyone, because for so many years, everyone let him down. That he trusted her with his fragile heart, made hers soar to heights she'd never felt before. She tried to imbue her next words to him with all those feelings, the gratitude for letting her in, for taking this step, and with her words she tried to communicate that she would never let him down.

"I would like that."

He finally looked up at her, and right before her eyes, Oliver was transformed. She wasn't sure what he saw in her face, but all at once she saw light enter his eyes and his face, splitting his mouth open in a wide, toothy grin, dimples out in full force. She fell in love with him even more in that moment. He looked so _happy._

"Tomorrow night," he declared, his confidence back in full swagger. "We'll take the night off, let Dig and Roy handle things here. I'll pick you up at 7."

His joy was infectious. "Okay," she agreed happily. "Should I dress up?" _Probably yes._

His eyebrow quirked suggestively. "Definitely." She loved seeing his playful side. She would do anything and everything to bring this side of him out to play as often and as long as possible.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes briefly at his touch, her head canting toward his hand. He was letting her off the hook for tonight, and she was fine with that. Honestly, he could say anything right now and she would be agreeable. She had made him happy, and that, in turn, made her happy. She was so proud of him. Wherever his thoughts had been, they had led him to taking a brave step towards something he thought he couldn't have. He overcame one of his inner demons, and he was never more of a hero to her than he was right now.


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver parked his motorcycle in front of her complex and dismounted. By habit, he adjusted his black suit jacket and began to button it, but his hands stilled. _Button, or unbutton?_ He strode over to the car in front of his bike to check his reflection, and for half a minute he buttoned and unbuttoned his jacket to compare. Deciding on leaving it open, he then focused on his black shirt. He had the top button open, and considered opening the second one, when his phone trilled with a text message.

He was pretty sure he knew who it was.

_You're early! –fms_

Oliver smiled and let out a little laugh. She always signed each and every text that way, even if they were texting for an hour. He suspected that she had set up a text signature and it was automatic, but he liked to imagine her taking the time to sign it as a sign of her affection for him.

_I couldn't wait any longer,_ he texted back.

He tried to imagine the look on her face once she opened his reply. Would she smile sweetly? Would she tease him for being cheesy? Would she blush? He stared at his phone, willing it to do something.

It rang.

Oliver almost dropped his phone. He had been expecting a text, and the prospect of hearing her voice startled something awake in his heart. Recovering the use of his hands quickly, he answered the call.

"Hi!" he shouted breathlessly.

"H-hi," Felicity answered shakily. Oliver beamed. It seems he wasn't the only one affected by the other's voice.

"You know," she continued, seemingly recovered, "I had a witty line at the ready after your text and then you have to go and do _this_…"

"Do what?" he asked.

"Please don't make me spell it out," she pleaded.

"Come on, Felicity," he said with a grin. "Don't hold back on me now."

She sighed loudly. "You know," she tried to explain. He could picture her arm waving in front of her, palm up, as if he was standing right in front of her as she begged him to come to the right conclusion. "Sounding all breathless and everything, which is very distracting and way too early to think about that, not that I've been thinking about that! I mean, okay, I have, but only because I'm a human being and you're, you know, you, and please will you shut me up before I embarrass myself further?"

Oliver laughed out loud. She was incredibly disarming and she didn't even know it. He shook his head at the idea that he would ever silence her beautiful voice. "I will never do that to you, Felicity."

They both fell silent then, and he had a feeling they were both sensing the deeper implications of his words. Never was a very long time.

After a few more breaths, Felicity blurted, "Anyway! So, you're early."

Oliver smiled. "I couldn't wait any longer."

Felicity huffed. "Stop it, I can't function when you get all charming."

He laughed again. "I'll wait for you out here."

"Come inside," she protested. "You can get more comfortable, like on my couch."

He anticipated her reaction to her own words and waited. He wasn't disappointed.

"Just! You know, just sitting. I mean, you don't have to just sit, I have magazines and stuff, or you can play a game on your phone or something."

He knew what he wanted to spend his time on. "Well," he replied. "If you insist." _Please, twist my arm._

He entered her building with a bounce in his step. He considered using the stairs, and he probably would if the elevator didn't open right away, but luck was with him and the elevator was on the ground floor. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited to reach her floor. Once the doors opened, he walked briskly toward her apartment. Just before he got to her door, his phone chirped with another text.

_Door's open._ –fms__

He shook his head in mild annoyance, wishing she took her own safety more seriously. He opened her door and stepped inside. He was greeted with soft, bright lighting and the scent of lavender in the air, most likely from a candle. He closed the door behind him and walked through her home.

"I know, I know," he could hear her saying from another room down the hall. "I'm sure you have your frowny face on because I left the door open for you, and you're gonna say that you need me to be safe, but I swear I only just opened it because I don't want you to see me yet."

He got closer to her voice while she spoke and found himself in the doorway of the bathroom when she fell silent. She was dressed in a tank top and shorts and she had curlers in her hair. He threw his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorway. "Too late," he teased, admiring her legs.

Felicity whirled around in surprise, cosmetics in hand. "Oliver!" she cried indignantly, blushing furiously. He froze this moment in his head, because he knew instantly that he would remember this for the rest of his life.

Her face was frozen in shock, surrounded by the halo of curlers. She had just started putting on her makeup, and he observed that she looked remarkably beautiful without it. His eyes crawled lower and noticed, eyes widening, that she wasn't wearing a bra. The moment he noticed this, he watched her nipples harden under her tank as her breath sped up. He continued tracing her body with his eyes, lingering on her legs again. He lifted his head to look back at her face, and found that her gaze had locked on his trousers, which he suddenly noticed had gotten a little bit tighter.

He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, trying to tuck in his hips. Felicity's eyes widened and fell on his, her blush deepening. "Sorry!" She whirled around and faced the mirror again, very obviously taking a deep breath.

He couldn't hold back his mirth. "It's only fair," he offered. "I'm not the only one who got harder." And with that, he turned on his heel and went to her living room to wait. He laughed out loud when the bathroom door slammed shut. It opened a second later with a quiet "Sorry" and then closed again, a little more softly.

He wandered around Felicity's home, taking in the details that illuminated her personality. Everything in her home was colorful. Her tan couch was artfully covered with various pillows from solid turquoise to orange and pink with polka dots and a patterned dark teal. She had a lime green armchair with a lemon yellow pillow with a hot pink trim. Her rug and walls were both a light, sandy color, and all this, combined with her sheer window treatments, gave the room an open, playful feeling.

One corner of the living room was dominated by an L-shaped desk with a hutch and two flat screen monitors. He noticed two audio speakers on top of the hutch, and set about putting on some music. His plan hit a snag when he couldn't find what he needed.

"Hey, Felicity?" he called out to her.

The bathroom door opened. "You called?"

"Yeah," he replied. "You don't have any CD's."

He heard her scoff. "Oliver," she started in a mock-patronizing tone. "No one uses CD's anymore. My Spotify should still be up on my computer, you can scroll through there."

_Right, the computer,_ he remembered. It still surprised him sometimes how quickly technology advanced in 5 years. She had shown him how to do this, once, in the office of Queen Consolidated, one day when he was in a particularly good mood. He laughed out loud when he saw a playlist labeled "Oliver." She had apparently saved his music choices that day at QC. He clicked on it now, and the smooth tones of Frank Sinatra filled Felicity's home.

_I've got you under my skin  
><em>_I've got you deep in the heart of me  
><em>_So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me  
><em>_I've got you under my skin_

Truer words have never been spoken, Oliver thought. He thought about Felicity as he swayed a little to the music. He was determined to show her a really good time tonight. No ghosts from the past would haunt their date. No fears would be borrowed from the future. Tonight he was going to let go and just be Felicity's Oliver.

_I tried so not to give in  
><em>_I've said to myself, this affair, it never will go so well  
><em>_But why should I try to resist when baby, I know damn well  
><em>_That I've got you under my skin_

He was done fighting his feelings for her. After two years of working together, fighting together, going through the fire for each other, this night, being together, it was inevitable. He knew this night was coming since the beginning, since the moment he introduced himself and she disarmed him with her babbling. It was the first time he didn't have to force a smile; the smile was pulled helplessly out of him by her charm.

He wandered to the wall that was covered with photos. It took him only moments before realizing that besides Felicity, he had no idea who any of these people were. He really was as self-involved as she said, almost a year ago. That he could have known Felicity all this time and know nothing about her life outside of what she did for him…well, he would fix that tonight. He wanted to ask why she didn't have any pictures of him or Diggle, but deduced that she probably didn't want any possible evidence of their less than legal connection.

He took a seat on her couch and pondered the collection of magazines on her coffee table. It was an eclectic mix of tech reviews, Sci-fi entertainment, fashion, and pop culture. He picked up the pop culture magazine, hearing both her voice and Thea's voice in his head every time they referenced something they felt he needed to know about.

His stomach dropped thinking about Thea. She had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, and even Felicity couldn't find her. That told him that someone who knew how to hide was helping her, or god forbid, had taken her. He didn't think that was the case, however; she did leave a note for Roy, the contents of which Roy eventually disclosed after a particularly tense fight with Oliver. She was driven away by all the lies; there were times when he knew it was vital to maintain secrecy, but there were other times when he felt that the cost of such secrecy was too high.

He quickly shook off his morbid thoughts. Tonight was not a night for angst, he promised himself. He distracted himself by flipping through the magazine in his hands, determined to read about such-and-such celebrity who was in rehab and another who was getting a divorce. He didn't understand why it was important for him to know these details of people he would never meet, but he continued regardless.

On second thought, he realized it was only Thea who talked to him about celebrity gossip, while Felicity tended to reference other things, like books, movies, and TV shows. He dropped the magazine in his hand back onto the coffee table, and picked up the one on Sci-Fi entertainment.

He was halfway through the magazine when he heard the bathroom door open and Felicity's little feet pattered in the hall, and he heard another door close, presumably her bedroom. He sighed a little as he looked at his watch…6:45. He had no right to complain; he _was_ early, after all. He was just anxious to see what Felicity would be wearing, and he wanted to see her face again.

He got up from the couch, sighing again, and started pacing in Felicity's apartment. He wandered to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He looked at his watch again. Only three minutes had passed. He opened her refrigerator, noticing the contents half-heartedly. He closed it again, and paced back into the living room. Another glance at his watch…6:50. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried to settle his anxiousness. He listened with half an ear as another Sinatra favorite came on over the air.

_Someday, when I'm awfully low  
><em>_When the world is cold  
><em>_I will feel a glow just thinking of you  
><em>_And the way you look tonight_

With one final glance at his watch, he walked into the hallway with every intention of knocking on her bedroom door to check on her. It was just then that her door opened, and the world around him seemed to slow down as he saw Felicity walk out of her room.

His heart constricted almost in pain at the vision of loveliness before him. He brought both hands up to his chest and his knees buckled just a little. She laughed shyly at his reaction. He took in her whole appearance, stunned by her beauty, and then started noticing the details of her ensemble.

She had on a black and gold dress, gold underneath with a patterned black lace overlay. There was a thin strap over one shoulder, leaving her other shoulder bare. It had an asymmetrical neckline, which started high on her torso on one side and dipped temptingly close to her breast on the other. There was a wide black band around her waist, accentuating her figure, and the skirt flared out adorably to mid-thigh. Her gorgeous legs, easily his favorite feature on her, were on full display with this dress. On her feet were playful black and gold platform heels, with a thin black strap around each ankle. There was something incredibly sexy about her ankles being essentially leashed, and he suddenly pictured those beautiful legs wrapped around him, with the heels still on, her body writhing with pleasure underneath him.

Forcefully dragging his eyes upward before his thoughts could get him into more trouble, he took in her face. Her face and her hair were most responsible for his stunned reaction. She had curled all of her hair, which gave her a completely different look than he was used to. It framed her face like a halo. She had gone subtle with her makeup, except for her eyes. She had lined her eyes completely in black, making them pop as he'd never seen before. Looking at her was like looking at an angel, or a goddess.

The final words to Sinatra's song registered in his consciousness just then.

_'Cause I love you  
><em>_Just the way you look tonight_

"Felicity," he whispered, unable to say anything else. All other words flew out of his head. But she seemed to understand.

"Thank you," she whispered back.

He pulled himself together, and offered up his elbow. "Shall we?"

She walked up to him and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "Let's."

xoxoxoxo

A/N

There is a link to Felicity and Oliver's First Date outfits on AO3. Being a FF newbie author I don't know how to fix the issue I'm having with including the link here. Feel free to message me if you know what I'm doing wrong. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

"OLIVER!"

Oliver turned around at the sound of her loud voice, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "What!"

Felicity shut her eyes and counted to three. She opened them again only to see Oliver's expression change from alarmed to amused. And…is that…chagrin?

Oh, that rat bastard did this on purpose.

"Oliver Jonas Queen!" she yelled. "How am I supposed to ride on that thing? You knew I would be in a dress! You expect me to plant my butt on your seat with my _panties_ being the only thing…separating…" Her words slowed drastically as her brain caught up with her mouth, and her face went hot. She slammed her eyes shut and counted down from three. She counted again. She did it one more time for good measure. She opened her eyes again and took in Oliver's expression, which at the moment looked excruciatingly pained, trapped between a kicked puppy look and an extreme suppression of laughter. He was biting both of his lips tersely, his dimples were showing, his brows were furrowed, and there was a suspicious sheen in his eyes. Thankfully, her anger kicked in again. "And my hair!" She whipped all her hair to one side and waved it at him. "Do you think I spent two hours on my hair tonight just to have it completely ruined and windblown? Are you crazy?"

Oliver fell into a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously close to laughter. He held up one finger as he coughed. When he recovered, he wiped some tears from his eyes and had a wide smile on his face. "I have a solution for that," he said, still slightly choked. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a significantly sized sheer black scarf.

"Hmph," she grunted, trying to seem unimpressed, even though she was the exact opposite. "I'll still get helmet head."

He laughed. "I'll help you fluff your hair."

She broke down and smiled. "Okay fine." She loosely gathered her hair in a bun at the base of her neck and reached for the scarf.

Oliver shook his head. He came closer to her, folding the scarf in half diagonally as he approached. He placed the folded edge of the scarf a couple of inches above her hairline, and she felt him bring the ends down around her face. He crossed them under her chin, and then he began to wrap them around, loosely, behind her neck and under her bun.

"You can let go now," he murmured softly, nudging her hand that was still holding her hair. She did. The bun held in place as he brought the ends back around to the front. "Is that too tight?" he asked, his voice still soft.

She shook her head.

He shifted his hands and tied a knot off to the side. "There," he said, placing his hand on her cheek. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "Now you look like Audrey Hepburn."

She stared into his eyes and suddenly she couldn't take a breath. "This is really intense." _Gah!_ She closed her eyes. "I totally just said that out loud."

Oliver laughed out loud. She couldn't get enough of his laugh tonight. She heard it here and there all night long, in the apartment while she was getting ready. She couldn't get over how light his behavior was. She wondered if this was what he was like pre-island, but with a bit more maturity. She felt like she was getting addicted to happy-Oliver, and she wanted more.

"How did you know how to do that?" she asked curiously.

And just like that, happy-Oliver vanished. Oh, he was still smiling, but his expression got sharp around the edges with pain. "My mom…" he choked.

Empathy tears instantly flooded her eyes and fell down her cheeks. This immediately changed his expression from pain to something else. "No," he mourned. "No crying, you'll ruin your makeup." He took one of the edges of the scarf and gently blotted at her tears.

She breathed out an emotional laugh. "Geez, Oliver," she teased, trying to lighten the mood again. "Let's dial back on these intense moments, yeah? Save them for next time?"

Oliver laughed and nodded. "Yeah."

He took her hand in his and walked them over to the bike. "I have a compromise for your first complaint, about sitting on here in a dress." He placed her hand on the back seat. She was surprised to feel that it was soft and slightly furry. She looked up at him inquisitively.

He nodded. "I had it upholstered this morning." He shined his cell phone light above the seat and she noticed the print and gasped. "Black leopard." She narrowed her eyes at him, at which he blurted out, "It's fake!" before she could say anything.

He grabbed something from the back of the bike and handed it to her. It was a helmet, in brown leopard print. She looked at him again.

He smiled at her. "For you."

She smiled and hugged the helmet to her chest for a moment. "Thank you," she said simply.

"You're welcome," he replied. He pointed at the seat. "I know it doesn't completely solve the problem, since your panties will still be the only thing separating your seat from mine…" Here he paused, looking expectantly at her, probably anticipating the raging blush she had going. His smile widened. "But I figured," he continued with a smirk, "this way, it would feel better."

_Oh my god, this man is going to kill me,_ she thought viciously as she felt her ears grow incredibly hot. She slammed her helmet roughly on her head, catching an ear in the process but she was so flustered she couldn't be bothered by something as trifling as pain.

She waited for him to get on the bike before she followed suit. _Screw it,_ she thought rebelliously. _I'm going to enjoy this._ She nestled herself against Oliver's backside, tucked her dress in between them, and wrapped her arms around his torso. She turned her head to the side and leaned against his back. A thought just occurred to her.

"I thought you were supposed to wear, like, a leather jacket or something, not a suit."

Oliver turned his head back toward her and shrugged. "Well," he started replying, "I figured if Daniel Craig can do it, so can I." With that, he pressed a button and the bike roared to life.

She started back in surprise. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "Oliver! Was that a pop culture reference?"

Oliver shrugged again. "You had magazines!" he shouted over the roar of the bike, and with that, they took off.

xoxoxoxo

The ride to the restaurant district took about half an hour, with traffic, providing plenty of time for Felicity to just exist and feel plenty of good feelings riding on the back of Oliver's motorcycle. She liked feeling his muscles moving and flexing under her arms as he maneuvered the bike around the city. She enjoyed the rush of the wind breezing over her legs, causing the skirt of her dress to fly out like a cape behind her. She particularly enjoyed the powerful vibrations underneath her, and coupled with the fact that a few mere millimeters separated her bare skin from his, her mind happily tripped into the gutter and stayed there. She recalled, quite vividly, the moment she saw him in her bathroom doorway. She had been upset at first that he was seeing her in such an unsexy state, and she had been ready to shove him out of her bathroom and shut the door, but then the way he looked, and the way he had been looking at her, silenced all her objections and she froze in shocked arousal.

He must have known how devastatingly sexy he looked leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. She never realized the seductive power of a really great suit, and the black on black he wore was really stunning. The shirt was made with some kind of fabric that subtly reflected light, making it shimmer in the evening lights. The top button was undone, giving a teasing glimpse of the hard muscles underneath. There were pops of bling here and there; the pearly shine of his buttons, the buckle of his belt, the watch peeking out from under his left sleeve.

She had looked up at his face the moment he realized she wasn't wearing a bra, and the darkening look in his eyes reached into her core and stroked her with heat. She knew she would not be able to control her involuntary reaction, and she saw his eyes widen when it inevitably happened. Her mouth had fallen open in a gasp, and as his eyes had continued traveling down her body, hers had fallen lower as well. Her mouth had gone dry when she saw the impressive bulge and, mesmerized, she had completely frozen in place.

Until he had noticed where her attention was and changed his posture. She had to turn away from him at that point to collect herself. Then he had purposefully teased her, with the type of suggestive comment that usually flew out of her mouth by accident, and she became undone. It had taken her a full minute of breathing and thinking unsexy things to recover from that.

She had expected a similar reaction from him when she came out of her room completely dressed up, but he had surprised her again. While seeing her in a completely unglamorous state had turned him on, seeing her looking sexy on purpose seemed to have reached his heart. She had felt flattered when he stumbled a bit upon seeing her. She took in his expression and realized he had looked…transported. He had whispered her name, just once, and hadn't spoken another word, but nevertheless, his eyes told her what he had wanted to say. She had felt it, and then she thanked him for making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

"Felicity."

"Hmm."

Oliver smiled down at the arms wrapped around him. They had been parked and stationary for almost five minutes. The first few minutes, even he was loathe to move, enjoying the warmth of a certain blonde IT specialist.

He took off his riding gloves and stroked Felicity's arm. "Felicity."

"Hmm."

Oliver shook his head and laughed. He tried one more time.

"Felicity."

"Hmm-wha?"

"Come on," he shook her arm gently. "We're here."

"Can' move."

He laughed again. "Try, Felicity," he murmured. "I'm getting hungry."

Felicity took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He felt her body shift as she slowly came back to awareness. Her arms loosened but didn't let go. "I think I zoned out for a while," she said with a yawn.

"I think you're right," Oliver replied with a smile. He leaned away from her to make eye contact. He waggled his eyebrow suggestively. "Was it good for you, baby?"

Felicity laughed out loud, a bright, arresting sound he had never heard come out of her mouth before. He looked at her with amusement and awe.

"Oh, Mr. Queen," she said, trying to compose herself. "Didn't you know? That was just foreplay." She winked at him.

His jaw dropped.

Her arms left his torso and moved up to his shoulders as she steadied herself to dismount. She was taking off her helmet and beginning the process of taking off the scarf when he finally came out of his shock.

"Felicity!" He managed to sound scandalized. He was beginning to see that there was so much more to this woman than he realized.

"What?" she shrugged with false innocence. "You're surprised that I can talk dirty? Have you met me?"

He shook his head, grinning like a fool. "Touché."

The scarf finally came off, and Felicity carefully unraveled her bun. Oliver reached for her hair with both hands to help undo her helmet head.

"What are you doing!" she squeaked.

Oliver froze. "I said I would help fluff your hair!" he protested.

"No, stop!" she shouted at him.

He immediately pulled his hands away. "What now?" he asked, mildly annoyed.

"You can't…just…attack it like that!" She walked up to the restaurant window to look at her reflection and he followed, staying right behind her. She took her curls, a few strands at a time, and carefully coiled them around her finger, before letting them fall delicately down her head. "There's a method to fluffing!"

Oliver pitched forward as he held his breath with all his might, trying his hardest to contain his laughter. He saw her cheeks blush wildly. "Please," he said, teasing her, "instruct me in the art of fluffing."

She turned around and leveled a glare at him. "Not helping!" she cried.

This time he couldn't hold back his laughter. He saw her demeanor soften just a bit. "I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, still smiling. "What can I do?"

Felicity sighed heavily. "You can stand there and look pretty," she muttered under her breath, concentrating on her hair.

Oliver shook his head and laughed. "Okay," he conceded. "I can do that."

After a couple of minutes, she straightened up and looked at her reflection this way and that. "How do I look?" she asked.

Oliver beamed a smile at her and said without hesitation, "Beautiful." He was rewarded with a smile.

She looked for the name of the restaurant. "Where are we?"

Oliver reached his hand down to grasp hers and led them to the door. "Little place called Russo's," he replied.

"Russo's," she repeated, slowly in consideration. "So I'm guessing Italian?"

"Yes. It's also a good place for a quiet, private dinner. I figured you would appreciate this better than Table Salt, where we would be surrounded by curious gawkers." He opened the door for her and they stepped inside and patiently waited for the host. Their hands remained connected.

She smiled. "You guessed right. So…" Felicity looked down at her feet. "Have you ever been here before?"

He really thought about it. "I might have," he answered, "but it must not have been memorable because I don't really remember."

She nodded her acceptance. "Okay."

"Mr. Queen!" an enthusiastic voice piped up. Oliver and Felicity both started at his voice and watched as a short, clearly Italian gentleman approached.

Oliver, accustomed to being recognized by people he didn't remember, smoothly adopted his charming persona. "Mr. Russo," he said, hoping he guessed correctly. The man had the presence of someone who owned a business. "You remember me."

They shook hands. "Of course I do!" the owner exclaimed. "I could not forget such a noble guest, especially one who came with Ms. Bertinelli!"

Oliver froze, panicking. He felt Felicity freeze beside him. _Shit._

Russo continued. "Such a shame what happened to that family," he mourned.

Oliver could do nothing, say nothing, at the moment. His vocal cords were paralyzed. All he could do was nod.

Completely oblivious to the tension before him, Russo looked happily at the blonde beauty standing next to Oliver. "And who is this beautiful creature?"

Oliver found his voice. "This is," he started roughly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "This is my very good friend, Felicity Smoak. Miss Smoak, meet Mr. Russo, owner of this establishment."

"Nice to meet you," Felicity said flatly.

Oliver sighed internally. He was in so much trouble. So much for no ghosts.

They followed Russo to a table in the corner of the dining room. Oliver pulled out a chair for Felicity and then sat in his own. He plastered on a smile for Russo as he handed them menus, and then spoke to Felicity as soon as they were left alone. "I didn't remember," he pleaded.

Felicity wasn't looking at him. She was looking down at the table. She put her hand up to stop him from speaking further. "I just need a minute," she croaked, her voice obviously distressed.

"Please, Felicity." Oliver wasn't above begging for forgiveness. "I'm sorry—"

Felicity finally looked at him, and the fire in her eyes stopped him cold. Her hand turned into a finger, silently asking him for some time. He gave it to her; it was only fair, and he deserved her wrath.

He suddenly felt the heavy weight of his past mistakes between them, and his heart sank. He was never going to be able to give her the kind of relationship she really deserved, one without baggage, without a dark, selfish, tortured past. She deserved something easier, less burdened with regret.

"Stop that."

Oliver looked up at Felicity with wide eyes. "What?" he whispered, unable to speak any louder.

_"That,"_ she said, pointing at his face. "That I-am-a-terrible-person-that-doesn't-deserve-any-happiness face." His breath burst out in what felt like a laugh if his heart wasn't already in his throat. She was uncanny, the way she could read him so easily.

She continued. "I only asked for a minute to get my thoughts right about this whole situation, and I need you to stop jumping to conclusions before I get there." The firm authority she had in her tone could put any military leader he met to shame.

"The thing is," she started softly, taking both of his hands in hers, "I should have expected it."

He didn't think he could feel like less of a human being until just then. Her words stabbed at his heart and filled his body with shame.

"I don't mean it like that," she said in a rush, squeezing his hands. "Oliver, please look at me."

He shook his head. He couldn't speak. He felt one of her hands leaving his and then she lifted his head. Her expression saddened with compassion for his misery.

"What I meant," she continued, "is that I know what I'm getting into. I know who you are, Oliver, and I know who you were. And I'm still here."

He felt tears filling his vision, and was helpless to stop them from falling onto his cheeks. "Why?" he croaked.

"Because I believe that you're a good man." He shook his head in protest, but she continued. "I believe that you truly regret your mistakes, and only a good man does that." She fell silent, pausing to let that sink in, and she never let go of his hands.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered brokenly. The tears were falling in earnest now.

"I know," she whispered back. "But I'm here anyway."

A feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced before filled his soul, and he quietly started sobbing. A weight he didn't know existed felt like it had been lifted from his chest. Before he realized what was happening, he had his arms full of Felicity, her comforting weight on his lap, her arms gently stroking his back, his face buried in her neck, and quiet, soothing noises filling his ear.

He wondered if this was what grace felt like. He was never really a religious man; the closest he got to religion was Buddhism by osmosis from all his time in Hong Kong. But he had been around enough religion to know the intellectual concept of grace, receiving that which was not deserved. He didn't know then how powerful it was. How it could fundamentally shape a person, from the inside out, how it not only touched a person's soul but also wrestled it into submission, casting away all self-recrimination and guilt. Guilt and shame had been his closest companions for so long that it felt strange to have this other feeling replace them. He felt lighter, and in all his years on the island and all the years that came after, he didn't think it was possible to feel this way ever again.

He looked up at Felicity with awe. "How do you do that?" he wondered out loud, shaking his head.

She seemed to sense his happier mood. "Do what?" she asked, wiping the tears from his face.

"Get inside my soul like that," he replied.

Felicity beamed at him. She shrugged. "It's a gift."

Oliver laughed out loud. He hugged her tightly. He wanted to give something back to her, and suddenly he knew what to say. He wanted to lay everything at her feet and tell her how much he cared about her.

"I wasn't lying," he said, looking unabashedly into her eyes. At her look of confusion, he clarified. "That night in the mansion. I wasn't lying."

He was transfixed, watching the emotions on her face as she received what he said and placed it in her heart. She went from shocked, to pained, to stunned, in a matter of seconds. Tears of her own gathered in her eyes, and fell helplessly onto her cheeks. She let out a watery laugh, and then leaned her forehead against his.

"I guess that gift goes both ways," she murmured.

He couldn't help it. At this angle, her lips were inches away, and before he could have second thoughts, he reached for her lips with his.

He heard her gasp, and time seemed to freeze around them. His entire attention focused like a laser beam to the point of contact between their lips. His lips tingled with electricity that radiated throughout his entire body. Her mouth was so _soft…_

A groan was shocked out of him when he felt her tongue peeking through his lips, and he met it with his own. Her answering moan shot a lightning bolt of arousal down to his groin. They played only with the tips of each other's tongue, still tentative, still cautious, when a throat cleared beside them.

They broke apart violently and Felicity stood up quickly, almost losing her balance. Oliver quickly reached for her hips to steady her, and they both blushed at the intimacy of that touch. Once she seemed steady on her feet, Oliver's hands withdrew, reluctantly. Clearing her throat, Felicity walked back to her chair, and sat down with dignity, as if what they had been doing was perfectly normal and nothing to be embarrassed about.

Oliver looked at their waiter. "We need another minute." The waiter nodded, smiling knowingly, and left.

He looked back at Felicity, who was studying her menu, and he picked up his own with a smile on his face. He couldn't wait to see what the rest of their date would bring.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Same events as the previous chapter, from Felicity's POV.**

Felicity felt like someone had doused her with a bucket of ice water at the mention of _that woman's_ name, Oliver's psycho ex-girlfriend. She didn't know what to feel or what to think; she could only stand there in shocked silence. She wasn't even sure she had any right to be upset. They dated. It was a fact. Her father was a mob boss. This was an Italian restaurant. They probably had to pay dues, or something. It only made sense that they would have come here at one point when they had…dated. And Oliver was a terrible liar, so he told the truth when he said he didn't remember coming here, least of all with _her._ _But he knew the owner's name_, a part of her that doubted whispered. Yeah, but it was probably an educated guess…the restaurant was called Russo's, and was probably owned by a guy named Russo. Duh.

She realized with a start that Oliver had called her name. She came out of her head just in time to be introduced to the owner.

"Nice to meet you," she said politely.

They were escorted to their table, and she could feel the angst that Oliver was radiating. She needed to figure out how she felt about all this before she laid into him. It wasn't really his fault that she was upset. He couldn't remember being here with _her_...could he?

"I didn't remember," Oliver stated passionately, as if he could read her thoughts. Unless she said that out loud, which she didn't think was the case. She didn't normally babble in this frame of mind.

She held up her hand, not looking at him quite yet. "I just need a minute." She needed a minute to figure out what was the right way to feel about their first date being in a restaurant where he had brought a former girlfriend.

"Please, Felicity," Oliver begged, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm sorry—"

She glared at him and held up a finger to enforce his silence. The last thing she wanted from him was an apology, since she wasn't convinced one was needed. And she was starting to get somewhere with that last thought…

She realized it would be pretty ridiculous to insist that their first date be somewhere he'd never taken anyone to, ever. They would probably have to go to Gotham to accomplish that. She knew he had quite the dating history when she met him. His legendary playboy status was, well, legendary. She was not naïve about him, but she also knew that he was making strides to be better, different. She decided she could let this go. She could try for humor, but she wasn't sure it would be well received yet. The boy had a massive guilt complex the size of Lian Yu.

Case in point, she thought as she finally looked up at Oliver, who was currently frowning at the table with abject misery. She could guess the direction of his thoughts, and was determined to stop him in his tracks.

"Stop that."

He looked up at her in surprise. His eyes still radiated misery. "What?" he whispered.

_"That,_" she said, pointing at his face. "That I-am-a-terrible-person-that-doesn't-deserve-any-happiness face." He laughed miserably. _Only he could pull off laughing miserably_, she thought. She went on. "I only asked for a minute to get my thoughts right about this whole situation, and I need you to stop jumping to conclusions before I get there." _Like deciding this date was a bad idea and I should stay away from you for my own protection._

She took a breath, held both of his hands and gentled her tone. "The thing is, I should have expected it." She realized she had just stuck her foot in her mouth again at the look of utter devastation on his face, and she realized how that sounded. "I don't mean it like that," she backtracked, mentally slapping herself. As if he needed anyone else beating on him when he was constantly doing it to himself. His head dropped further and her heart broke. She wanted to heal the wound she unintentionally inflicted on his heart.

"Oliver," she pleaded. He didn't look up. "Please look at me," she begged. When he didn't, she reached out and placed her hand under his chin, and coaxed his head to look up. The look on his face broke her heart a little more.

She willed all the love and compassion she had within her to infuse her words and heal his heart. "What I meant is that I know what I'm getting into. I know who you are, Oliver, and I know who you were. And I'm still here." She gave his hands a little squeeze to reinforce her words.

She felt like she was finally getting somewhere when she saw tears falling down his face, and his gaze was riveted on hers, as if her words were reaching somewhere deep inside him. He asked her why; he didn't contradict her decision to _be here_, he just asked for the reason behind her decision.

"Because I believe that you're a good man." She knew he would disagree, so she continued to reason with him. "I believe that you truly regret your mistakes," and she could tell he _did_ agree with this, "and only a good man does that."

She could see that he was really thinking about it this time, that he could begin to believe that he was good because he felt such regret, and she let out a mental breath.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, and her heart clenched with sadness. She could try to convince him that he _did_ deserve happiness, but she knew he couldn't hear that right now. Instead she tried to communicate the unconditional nature of her love for him.

"I know," she conceded. "But I'm here anyway."

That seemed to unlock something in his soul, and his face crumpled alarmingly and he started shaking. She jumped up without hesitation and wrapped her arms around him, sat on his lap without a second thought and rocked him gently, whispering words of comfort in his ear. He nuzzled his face into her neck and he continued to shake beneath her, gasping a sobbing breath every so often. She felt so honored that she could help him this way, that she could help heal what was broken inside, that he was receptive to her words. As stubborn as he could be sometimes, she knew that he always listened to her, even if he didn't always agree.

She felt him calm down after a while, taking deep, even breaths. He looked up at her with a lighter expression on his face. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked, distracted by the tears on his face. She gently wiped his face clean.

"Get inside my soul like that," he replied, and she smiled in triumph. She had successfully led him from a dark place in his mind and got him smiling again. She figured he could handle a little teasing now. With a little shrug, she joked, "It's a gift."

Oliver laughed out loud and hugged her tightly. She reveled in the sensation, a warm feeling spreading from her heart. She loved this man, she couldn't deny it in her head anymore.

Oliver pulled back from her suddenly and gazed deeply into her eyes, seemingly coming to a decision about something. He uttered three little words that stopped her heart.

"I wasn't lying."

Her brows furrowed, not really knowing how to react to this. He seemed to interpret this as confusion, as he clarified, "That night in the mansion. I wasn't lying."

Hearing out loud what she had suspected before was disorienting. Sure, she had hoped, but she didn't _know._ Suddenly she couldn't breathe, as his words penetrated the walls she had carefully built around her heart since that night in the mansion. Her hope had peeked around those walls on the beach of Lian Yu, but not getting any confirmation one way or the other of the truth just caused her to bury any hope behind the walls again. Her friendship and working relationship with Oliver was far more important than her crush on him, so she locked it up and threw away the key.

Until now. Having confirmation of her feelings being returned opened a floodgate of emotion that she couldn't get a handle on. She felt tears gathering in her eyes and the emotions overwhelmed her. She laughed, amazed at how quickly Oliver turned the tables on her.

She leaned her forehead against his, and joked, "I guess that gift goes both ways." She expected him to laugh along. She didn't expect him to kiss her.

She gasped at the sensation of his lips on hers, and her mind thoroughly went blank. Her heart stuttered, and she froze in surprise. Once her mind came back to life and she realized _he was kissing her,_ she melted into the kiss, tightening her arms around Oliver's neck. She boldly breached his lips with the tip of her tongue, which elicited a groan from deep inside his chest. That groan did something to her libido and she felt her arousal explode inside her. Then she felt his tongue against hers and she couldn't stop her own little moan of pleasure. They both kept the kiss on the tame side, knowing instinctively that neither of them wanted to rush anything, and someone cleared their throat beside them.

Felicity jumped out of Oliver's lap, a little too quickly, and with horror she realized she was about to fall on her ass. Except Oliver came to her rescue. He gripped her by the hips to steady her, and her mind instantly imagined another scenario where he would grip her hips and she blushed profusely. Oliver blushed as well, probably imagining the same scenario. His hands dropped from her hips, and Felicity was determined to regain her dignity as she took her seat.

She picked up the menu to give herself a little space from such intensity. She wanted to go back to the easy banter they started the night with, and she had a couple of ideas of how to do just that.

Meal decisions made and ordered, she decided to put one of her ideas into play. "So," she began, and she instantly had Oliver's attention. "I'm sure you've played Twenty Questions before."

Oliver's head tilted in curiosity. "Yes, I have," he replied slowly, clearly unsure of where this was going.

"Well," she began, "I want to play something like that now, with you."

Oliver's eyebrow quirked up in amusement. "Okay," he agreed with a laugh.

"But we have to lay out some ground rules."

Oliver nodded at her to continue.

"One," she said, using her right index finger to count off on the fingers of her left hand, "nothing intense. If you or I ask a question that will lead to an intense moment, then we'll just say so, and move on to the next question."

Oliver nodded with a smile. "Okay, I can get behind that."

"Two," her index finger touched two of her other fingers, "for obvious reasons, family and work are off-limits. Well, I say family because I think neither of our families give us loads of happiness, but they're not off limits if it's a good memory or an easy question. So, families are okay. As long as it's not intense. But work is definitely off-limits. No QC or Arrow talk."

Oliver laughed at her long-winded explanation. "Okay."

"And three," her index finger wrapped around three fingers on her left hand, "we don't have to stop at twenty questions. We ask as many as we want until we get tired of this game."

Oliver shook his head with a smile. "I get the feeling that I'll never get tired of this game."

Felicity ducked her head and smiled. "Okay," she said, recovering. "You first."

Oliver smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Oliver and Felicity play twenty questions.**

"What's your natural hair color?"

Felicity hid her face behind her hand. "Oh god, you want to start with that?" she laughed.

Oliver arched his eyebrow. "Why is that embarrassing?"

Felicity shook her head. "It's not, not really. It's more of a knee jerk reaction. I like being blonde, I've been blonde since freshman year at M.I.T. It's part of who I am now. My previous hair color was kind of a boring brown…not that brown is always boring, I mean, Laurel has brown hair and it's gorgeous. Your brown is really nice, it goes really well with your face, especially with your facial hair, and your eyebrows, it's the whole package…" Felicity paused, starting to feel embarrassed about showing her obvious appreciation of his looks, when she realized with a smile that she was allowed to do that now. "What I'm saying is my brown kind of made me invisible, which was good at the time, I mean, I didn't want to make myself a target in high school, but I don't really like who I was when I had brown hair, and I flew 3000 miles away to go to a school where people like me outnumbered the quote-unquote popular kids and I re-invented myself so…" Felicity bit both lips to stop the relentless flow of words spilling out of her mouth.

Oliver suppressed a grin; his eyes sparkled with mirth. "So, brown."

Felicity looked at him boldly, daring him to laugh at her. He raised his hands in surrender with a smile. "Your turn," he said.

"What's your favorite drink?"

Oliver looked up at a point above her head as he thought about the question. "It depends on my mood. There are times when I need a really good, single-malt scotch, particularly after a bad day. Or if I'm going to have a tough conversation with someone." He smiled wistfully. "My dad introduced me to scotch. I can't even tell you how many times he sat me down in his study, pouring out two fingers of scotch in those crystal tumblers he kept on the credenza behind his desk. I'd know then that I was in it for a serious lecture." He felt a pang in his chest, remembering the complicated relationship with his father.

He quickly shook off his thoughts, and continued. "Then, there's tequila." He smiled at Felicity seductively. She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking at his expression. "Tequila's for when I want to have some fun, get drunk and party. It's especially fun drinking with a beautiful woman." He grabbed Felicity's hand and brushed his finger across her wrist. "Lick the salt here, take a shot, and take the lemon out of her hand, using only my mouth." He leveled a heated gaze at her and was satisfied to see a flush on her face and her eyes dilated. "And that's just the PG version." Felicity made a small noise as her lips parted.

"Then, there are times like now." He continued stroking her wrist, his gaze turning tender. "When I'm relaxed, happy, and in very pleasant company. When I'm feeling that way, I prefer a good wine."

There was a charged silence between them. After a beat, Felicity cleared her throat and murmured, "Wine is my favorite."

Oliver smiled. "You've said."

"Right," Felicity replied. "You still owe me a 1982 Lafite Rothschild."

Oliver ducked his head and laughed. "I guess I do." He looked back up at her. "What's your favorite color?"

Felicity tilted her head. "You know," she began, tapping her fingers on her chin. "I kind of don't have just one favorite color. I like colors in general, well, the bright ones, anyway. Well, I like the not bright ones, too, just, they don't really look good on me. Except black, 'cause, black is good on everyone. What about you?"

"Blue," he replied without hesitation, gazing into her eyes.

"Blue?" she asked, surprised. "Really? Not green?"

He smiled and shook his head in reply.

"What shade of blue?" she pressed. "Because, there are a lot of shades—"

"Greyish blue."

Felicity fell silent, blinked her eyes a few times, and seemed to understand what he was saying. She shook her head in amusement. "Is it really or are you just trying to flatter me?"

"Felicity," he said softly, "when have I ever been able to lie to you?"

She smiled shyly. Then she looked at him with a mock-glare. "Stop that! Your charm should be outlawed, it's a hazard. People can get into car accidents on that stuff. What was their cause of death? Oh, death by charm by Oliver Queen…"

By the end of her rant, Oliver couldn't hold back his laughter. Felicity's heart warmed at the sight.

"Who's turn is it?" she asked when he recovered.

"You go," he nodded at Felicity.

"Okay. Favorite TV show?"

Oliver bit his lip and considered. "Well, there were a lot of shows I liked, but that was all pre-island. I haven't really watched a lot since I've been back."

"Okay, so what were you watching before the island?"

Oliver smiled at the nonchalance of her mentioning the island, glossing over the potential for intensity. "I know I was watching Lost with Tommy and Laurel for a while." Oliver smirked. "Ironic, really."

A breathy laugh came from Felicity.

"I think I just started Dexter when we left."

Felicity's eyes lit up. "Ooh! That's a good one, did you ever catch up?"

Oliver shrugged. "Seems like too much of a hassle, and I don't really have the time these days."

Felicity's mouth fell open. "You have no idea how easy it is these days, Oliver. We should make a binge-TV date."

Oliver blinked. "What?"

"Oh, Oliver," Felicity mourned. "You've been back for two years, and you still haven't caught up with pop culture?"

Oliver shook his head with a chagrined smile. "You're gonna have to help me with that."

"Okay," Felicity nodded. "You missed out on some seriously good television. We're in a golden age right now, good TV is coming out of everyone's ears, and it's really easy to binge watch. We'll have you caught up on Dexter in no time, although, after season 4, it kinda went downhill…and I should shut up because you didn't need to know that ahead of time."

"It's okay," Oliver reassured. "I already got a taste of that with Lost."

Felicity laughed. "Yeah, that one kinda went bad pretty early, too."

There was a beat of comfortable silence.

"What's your favorite book?" Oliver asked.

"That," Felicity said with conviction, "is impossible to answer. There is no single book that is my favorite, because I like too many of them. They're kind of like children, they each have a special place in my heart."

"Okay," Oliver said slowly. "So, tell me about some of them."

Felicity smiled as a distant look entered her eyes. "J.K. Rowling is definitely up there, you know, Harry Potter. Current favorite is Game of Thrones…another amazing TV show I have to introduce you to."

"A book and a TV show?" Oliver asked curiously.

"Oh, that happens a lot more often than you think. Actually, it's more common for a book series to turn into a movie series, and it's very common for the studios to split the last book into two movies. Probably to stretch out the earning potential. I also like a lot of classics, like Tolkien…he wrote Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, which are all excellent movies."

"Never saw any of them."

Felicity gasped. "Sacrilege! They're classics! No kidding, at this point they're as iconic as Star Wars, and please tell me you've seen Star Wars."

"Is that the one with the furry midgets?"

Felicity cried out in mock-outrage. "_Furry midgets?_ You mean, Ewoks?"

He was having too much fun eliciting a reaction out of her. "And monks with light swords?"

"Oh my god," Felicity slapped her palm on her forehead. "Jedi with lightsabers!" She shook her head vigorously. "You need a movie-cation."

Oliver laughed out loud. "A what?"

Felicity sighed. "Movie education. Movie-cation. Yet another pop culture reference lost on you. That was from Pitch Perfect, which, I guess I should give you a pass on because it came out around the time you came back. The first time."

"So, you're saying we'll never run out of things to do."

Felicity blushed. "Sorry, that's probably presumptuous, I don't mean to assume—"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted. "I would love to get a movie education from you."

"Movie-cation," Felicity corrected absentmindedly.

"Okay."

"Speaking of movies," Felicity continued. "Your favorite?"

"I always loved the James Bond movies."

"Ha!" Felicity laughed. "A super secret spy with lots of skills and gadgets, looks good in a suit, takes out bad guys, and always has a beautiful woman on his arm. Gee, that doesn't remind me of anyone."

"Really?" Oliver asked with false innocence. "Are you saying I don't look good in a suit?"

Felicity giggled. "Well, you're not a spy!"

"But I am with a beautiful woman right now."

Felicity blushed and threw her napkin at him. "I told you to stop that, there's only so much blood that my face can hold before it explodes."

Oliver laughed. "Is it my turn?"

"Sure."

He looked at her roguishly. "Will you tell me about your first kiss?"

Her face fell, just a little bit. "That's a bit intense," she said lightly, trying to keep their casual banter flowing. "Try again."

Oliver's brows furrowed, but decided to tuck that piece of information in the back of his mind. "Okay," he recovered. "What's your go-to comfort food?"

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream. Hands down."

That ever present warm feeling in his chest bloomed, putting a smile on his face. "That's my favorite flavor. In fact, that was one of the only things I missed when I was on the island; so much, that I dreamed about it."

Felicity beamed. "Isn't there an ice cream shop around the corner from here? We should get ice cream for dessert!"

"That sounds like a great idea."

Felicity's joy lit up her entire countenance. "Is it weird that I like ice cream and wine?"

The side of Oliver's mouth quirked up in amusement. "I've never tried it, but I'm sure there's a way to pair any number of wines to almost anything."

"Oh, there is!" Felicity nodded enthusiastically. "There's a whole universe of wine to explore. I want to see it all."

"Then we'll add that to the list of things to do," Oliver promised.

"Yay," Felicity cheered lightly. "Okay, my turn. You said ice cream was one of the things you missed when you were on the island, what else did you miss?"

"Beef," he stated firmly.

Felicity laughed. "I guess Lian Yu's not very cow friendly."

"Nope. I had almost everything else available though." It wasn't too painful to reminisce about the various meats he had. "Instead of chicken, there were pheasants, and instead of pig, there was one warthog. Only the once, though. We discovered pretty quickly that it was too much for just two of us, and a lot of it went bad." He didn't have to clarify who was included in the 'we.' "Stuck to smaller game after that. And, of course, a lot of fish."

"Is that why you don't like sushi?"

"I'll probably like it again, someday," he replied ruefully. "Not right now, though."

She nodded her understanding.

Just then, their dinners arrived, and they spent the next several minutes audibly enjoying their food, trading warm glances, and engaging in pleasant small talk.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I finally updated! Thanks for your patience. Took me a while to recover from all the Olicity spoilers from Comic Con. **

The rest of their dinner passed easily, each of them trading stories from their college days. He was amused to discover that she had a secret kinky side, and had experimented with her very dominant roommate during her sophomore year. Said roommate was the person responsible for her industrial piercing and a tattoo that she wouldn't show him, at least not yet. He, in turn, had regaled her of his many trouble-making exploits during his four attempts at higher education.

"The only class I remotely paid attention to was a lit class, and that was only because I had a thing going with the professor," he admitted sheepishly.

Felicity laughed. "Of course. How else does one get your attention? She must have been beautiful."

Oliver smiled easily, reminiscing about his freshman lit professor. "She was okay," he shrugged. "Mid to late forties, total cougar, and I saw an easy A." He shook his head. "I was such a bastard."

Felicity grinned. "She probably had no chance against your charm."

"None," Oliver agreed with a smile. "Funny story, though," he continued. "It was a good thing that I paid attention in that class, because it probably saved my life on the island." His gaze turned distant and wistful, remembering some of the better times with Slade.

"Oh?" Felicity pressed him to continue.

"There was a time, when I first met Slade…" He paused. It was probably against the rules of intensity to talk about this, but he thought he could manage to keep it light. "He had this plan when I first met him to hijack a plane from the enemy camp. I was supposed to secure the tower while he took care of everyone else, but in the end he took care of everyone." He grunted in amusement at the person he was back then, at how far he seemed from the person he was now.

"Anyway," he continued, "the plan was to contact the next plane coming in for a landing, and then secure the plane. But then the pilot challenged us."

"Challenged you?" Felicity asked, confused.

"To make sure we were friendlies, he started a phrase that we had to finish correctly."

Felicity nodded. "Kind of like a password."

"Right. So they gave us the first half of a quote." He tilted his head up, trying to recall the quote. "Of all the creatures that breathe and walk on the earth—"

"Nothing is bred that is weaker than man," Felicity finished for him.

Oliver looked at her, stunned. Then he smiled and shook his head. "Of course you would know the Odyssey."

Felicity smiled. "And I think it's actually 'move upon the earth,' but you know. Same difference."

Oliver chuckled. "Well, I got the second part wrong at first, I thought it was 'born', but then remembered at the last second it was 'bred.' I almost gave Slade a heart attack when I stopped him from transmitting the wrong answer."

"I'm guessing something went wrong, because you were rescued by a boat, not a plane."

Oliver smiled ruefully. "Yeah, you could say that. But that's a bit intense."

Felicity nodded, understanding immediately.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Oliver lost in his thoughts about the early days with Slade, Felicity lost in her thoughts about what might have gone wrong in Oliver's story. She knew there might be a day when he opened up about everything that happened to him there, but she decided today was not going to be that day, for both of their sakes. She decided to change the subject.

"So, Mr. Queen," she started. Oliver gave his full attention instantly. "I believe the dinner portion of our evening has concluded. Should we move on to the fun part?"

"Oh," Oliver responded, grinning wickedly. "I thought we were gonna get ice cream. But we can do that instead." He laughed as Felicity blushed, practically on cue.

"That is not what I meant," she muttered, ducking her gaze. "My stupid mouth…"

Oliver reached for her hands. "I'm only teasing," he said lightly. He lowered his head to meet her gaze, and was pleased to see a shy smile on her face. "Let's go," he said, squeezing her hands before letting go. He pulled out his money clip and left some bills on the table, took Felicity's hand in his to help her out of her chair, and headed toward the exit. They were greeted once more by Russo, who wished them a pleasant evening, and they stepped outside together. Their hands remained linked.

They walked to the ice cream shop at a leisurely pace. The stillness of the night surrounded them, cocooning them in a peaceful bubble. Felicity relished the feel of her hand in Oliver's, their fingers intertwined.

"Our hands fit really nicely together," she remarked, looking down where they were joined.

Oliver lifted their hands up, turning them this way and that. "Would you look at that," he replied with mock wonder. He gave her a flirtatious smile. "Almost like they were made for each other."

Felicity giggled and nudged his side with hers. "Charmer."

"You protest, but I think you like it."

"Psh, what?" she tried to deny, but her grin made it a futile effort.

"Mm-hmm," Oliver murmured smugly. "I see through you, Ms. Smoak. You can't resist my charms."

Felicity laughed out loud. "So unfair," she lamented. "You got a triple dose when they were handing out charm, and I got hit with the awkward stick."

Oliver huffed, amused. "Oh, Felicity, you have no idea how charming you are."

"Oh, please," she objected. "That's not charm, that's me making awkward innuendos and sticking my foot in my mouth and people laughing at me or calling it 'endearing.' It's okay, I've long accepted how I am. I'm used to it."

Oliver's brow furrowed at her self-deprecation. He shook his head. "You are," he insisted. "It's one of the things I love most about you."

Felicity's footsteps stuttered at his use of the 'L' word. Oliver held his breath, realizing his slip, but didn't take back what he said, leaving it out there for Felicity to do whatever she wanted with it.

They continued walking in silence that was no longer completely comfortable. Oliver wasn't sure how to diffuse the tension, but as always, Felicity rescued him. "I've been called endearing before. I think that word fits better. Charm implies purpose, and I definitely don't do it on purpose."

Oliver sighed with relief. He could always trust Felicity to keep things light. He could continue their conversation now. "What about disarming? I thought that about you tonight."

Felicity seemed to think about it. "I like it. Disarming, like disarming a bomb. Like disarmament. I like it better than 'endearing', because sometimes that sounds patronizing."

Oliver smiled. "I have a lot more, if you want to hear them."

Felicity hugged his arm. "Careful, you're gonna blow up my ego."

He stopped walking to face her. He held her by both arms. "Captivating. Intriguing. Bewitching. Enchanting." He moved closer to her. "Intoxicating." He stared intensely into her eyes, noticing with a smirk that her pupils dilated just a bit. He leaned in closer, hovering mere inches from her face. "Addicting." He closed the final distance and kissed her.

His hands tightened on her arms, overcome once again by the intensity of the kiss, even though it was, by most standards, on the tame side. His heart beat faster and he felt tingling all over his body. He moved his lips over hers sensually, tugging on her bottom lip with both of his, touching it lightly with his tongue. He moved his hands up to cup her face, to tangle his fingers in her hair, and he felt the tip of her tongue breach his lips. With a guttural moan, he moved the kiss into decidedly untame territory as he nipped her tongue lightly with his teeth, pulling it further into his mouth, sucking lightly. He lost all sense of the world around him, consumed by the feeling of her lips against his, her tongue exploring his mouth, exploring hers with his, feeling the scrape of her teeth against his tongue. He could feel her moans of pleasure down to his spine, activating all his nerve endings. He felt her body conform to his, every inch of her torso attached to his like a magnet. He felt her fingers scraping his scalp, sending shudders through his body. He whirled her around and slammed her against the wall of whatever building they were next to. He felt out of control of his body as he ground against her, feeling pulled by some force from inside her body, beckoning him to submerge himself in her, to somehow climb inside her body and become one person with her.

He wasn't sure how far this would go until Felicity put both hands on his chest and pushed a little. It had the effect of startling him to awareness. He broke the kiss abruptly and took one alarmed step back. "Sorry," he apologized, shaking his head to clear it. "I didn't mean to get so carried away."

"It's okay," she reassured, breathlessly. "That was…a lot of fun…but we were heading toward indecent exposure if we didn't stop."

He took a couple of deep breaths. He took another step back, trying to break the inexorable pull he felt towards Felicity's body. He looked down at himself and grimaced at the state of his pants. He looked up when he heard Felicity giggle.

She was looking at the state of his pants as well. "I'd say I'd help you with that, but you're gonna have to wait until, at least, date three."

He narrowed his eyes and growled playfully. "That's practically torture."

"Sorry, sweetie," she teased. "I don't make the rules, I just play by them."

He took a step toward her again, nudging her lower body with his. "I have ways, Ms. Smoak, of getting what I want." He felt a thrill course through him when Felicity looked aroused beyond sense, but she kept surprising him.

She caressed him boldly over his pants, and his mind blanked out completely at her touch. "Trust me, Mr. Queen," she said in a sultry tone. "Just a little bit of patience, and I'll make it worth your while." And with that, she slid away from him and walked away. Just to be cheeky, she tossed her head back to look at him, gave him a wink, and walked forward.

Oliver was thoroughly dumbstruck.

Felicity turned around again. "Come on, slow poke! Ice cream awaits!"

Oliver came back to himself with a laugh. _Unbelievable._

He had one thought as he ran to catch up with her.

_I'm going to marry this woman._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Last chapter! More notes at the end.**

Felicity felt so good about the recent developments that she ceased to feel the sidewalk under her feet. The smile on her face kept threatening to split open into a wide, toothy grin, but she kept her lips pressed together to play it cool. She heard Oliver's quick footsteps behind her as he ran to catch up with her, and promptly felt his hand slip back into hers. She turned her face to look at him, and his beaming smile undid whatever control she had over herself and she grinned back at him. She held back from skipping, though, even if he made her feel like a giddy teenager on their first date.

They arrived at the ice cream shop, and thankfully, there were only a few people inside. A young couple sharing one bowl of ice cream, too wrapped up in their own date to notice anyone else; an older gentleman with two young children, who only gave them a passing glance before returning to their treats; and a trio of young, college-aged girls, talking and giggling with each other. As Oliver ordered two mint chip cones, Felicity could feel the eyes of the college girls on her. She dared a glance at them, and found them looking at Oliver appreciatively. She took a step forward to block him from their view, trying to be subtle, but the narrowing eyes in her direction told her she was anything but.

She sighed. She hated the games women sometimes played with each other. She always believed they should look out for one another instead of competing, but she knew it wasn't always like that. She just turned around and ignored them, deciding it wasn't worth getting her hackles up. Besides, she was the one that was here with Oliver, and as he smiled at her, she was reassured that none of those girls would catch his attention.

For a moment, she thought about her uneasy past with the women in her life. Growing up, she was surrounded by people who were too busy playing a part to be real with her, and she quickly grew sensitive to deception and authenticity. She developed an ability to read people, and believed herself to be a decent judge of character.

She usually found herself uncomfortable with women who hid their genuine selves behind a facade, saying what they didn't mean and not saying what they did. She thought about the various women she's come across recently. Right off the bat, she thought of Isabel, who clearly hid her true self for nefarious purposes, and Felicity had known it immediately on a subconscious level.

She thought of Sara. Ironically, even though Sara wore a mask on a regular basis, when it came to her friendship with Felicity, she didn't hide. So she liked Sara. She wasn't sure about Laurel yet; all of her interactions with her have been less than stellar to date, but she was willing to give her a chance.

She thought about Moira. As terrible as it was to think ill of the dead, she never really trusted her, because she was the epitome of someone who hid their true intentions. She supposed she should forgive her, though, because she did die for her children. Surely that makes up for something.

Then she thought about Thea. She never got a chance to really know her, and that made her sad. Just as her mother was the epitome of deceit, Thea was the epitome of authenticity. There was not a false bone in her body; everyone knew exactly how she felt about anything or anyone. She had a feeling that they would have gotten along pretty well.

_Will,_ she corrected herself. _Will get along well_. Once they find her…

"Hey?" Oliver called out, interrupting her thoughts. He was holding out a cone for her.

She shook off her thoughts and accepted it with a smile. "Thanks!"

Oliver looked at her searchingly for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied hurriedly, "Just thinking."

His brows furrowed slightly. Just as he opened his mouth, probably to ask what she was thinking about, the shop owner handed him the other cone. Once he paid, he led them outside.

They spent a few moments eating their ice cream, walking back to his bike in silence. She wasn't sure how it happened, but the frivolity of their trip to the ice cream shop vanished, leaving a more serious silence in its wake. It was probably when her thoughts turned to gloomier things, which Oliver picked up on. He could read her as easily as she read him, after all.

"So," Oliver began, causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach. "Can I ask you something?"

Felicity sighed. "I was thinking about Thea," she said, answering his unspoken question.

"Oh?" Oliver seemed surprised. His eyebrows dropped in that adorable way when he's confused. "What brought that on?"

She laughed a little. "It's my brain, it's a weird train of thought. I saw those girls inside ogling you, and I got a _little bit_ possessive," she explained, smiling sheepishly. Oliver chuckled. "Then I thought about how annoyingly hard to read some women can be, and then I thought about women that are easier to read, like Sara…and Thea. And then, I thought…I think I'd get along with Thea really well."

Oliver's gaze turned distant. "You would," he affirmed. He swallowed as sorrow passed over his face. "You're unfailingly honest, and she can spot dishonesty from a mile away."

She squeezed his hand. "We'll find her, Oliver," she reassured. His expression didn't change. "We'll find her, and then we'll find a way to make it up to her."

Oliver finally looked at her. "You think she'll forgive me?" he asked, both broken and hopeful.

Felicity shrugged. She didn't want to give him any false hope. "I think that all we can do is lay it all out for her, show her our sincerity, and leave it up to her. I really hope so, though."

She had a thought just then, but was cautious about sharing it, as it had potential for a lot of angst. She thought the payoff might be worth it though. "I think she will, eventually, because she's your family. I mean, you forgave your mom, in the end."

Oliver seemed to consider this.

"Um, Oliver?" Felicity looked at his ice cream with worry. "You're melting."

Oliver blinked rapidly, coming out of his thoughts, and noticed the melting ice cream trailing down his fist. He brought his hand to his mouth, and lapped at the ice cream with an outstretched tongue. This made Felicity giggle.

Oliver looked instantly at Felicity at the sound, mid-lick. With a smile, he continued cleaning his hand and catching up to his ice cream. Her mirth was contagious, and Oliver found himself laughing along, dispelling all remaining tension.

They spent the rest of the walk in a much more comfortable silence, walking hand in hand, enjoying their dessert. Felicity enjoyed it a bit more audibly than Oliver, much to his amusement.

"You always this noisy when you're…eating ice cream?" Oliver teased.

Felicity scoffed. "Of course, have you met me? I have a glitchy filter."

Oliver smirked. "Good to know."

She was momentarily thrown off by his smirk, until she figured out the double meaning of his question. She ducked her head and blushed. She looked at him through her lashes, and with a coy smile, she purred, "I get much louder than that." She watched with delight as his eyes widened and his smirk fell. She laughed out loud.

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. "I can't wait to hear that," he murmured, drawing her body close to his. He leaned down for a kiss, and she tasted the mint chip that lingered on his tongue.

She indulged in the kiss for a little bit before pulling away. "I am so glad we can do that now," she said, smiling up at him.

He leaned his forehead against hers, smiling back at her. "Me too."

They stayed that way for a few breaths, sharing the air between them. Felicity felt such contentment in his arms that it filled her heart to the brim with happiness. She felt safe and protected, cherished and adored in his embrace. She felt that as long as he kept holding her like this, day after day, nothing would ever bother her again. He was all she needed, and she was glad he finally had the courage to reach out for this.

"Oliver?" she asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She took a breath. "What were you thinking about last night? Before you asked me out?"

He didn't answer right away. He took a deep breath, pulled back a little bit to look at her in the eyes, and smiled. His gaze turned upward and distant, as he thought about what to say. The silence stretched out a little longer than was comfortable, but she remained patient, giving him space to say whatever he wanted.

"You once asked me if I had any happy stories from my time away, do you remember?" She nodded. He smiled at her. "I'm starting to remember them."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh?"

His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I was thinking about Shado." His eyes begged her to understand, and she did. He was not bringing up Shado to cause her any pain, but to open up to her. She nodded at him to continue.

"She taught me how to meditate, and I thought about those times we meditated together." A small smile graced his lips. "I realized after a little while that it was the first time I thought about her without pain. And I thought, maybe, that I was beginning to heal."

Felicity beamed at him. "That's good news."

"And then I imagined meditating with you," he continued. "I imagined it was you there with me, on that island, next to the fire, just existing together. I realized there was nothing I wanted more, and that's why I decided to ask you out."

Warmth bloomed in Felicity's heart at his words, and a slow smile spread across her face. There was no other way to respond to that than to pull him down by his lapels and kiss him with all her might.

"I'm glad," Felicity said, smiling. "I thought you were thinking about Laurel."

Oliver shook his head. "There's only one girl for me now, and that's you, Felicity."

"Your girl-girl?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Oliver laughed out loud. "Yes."

Felicity grinned. "Well, I guess if I'm your girl, then you're my guy." She punctuated this with another kiss.

Oliver chuckled against her lips. He pulled back with a sigh. "I better get you home before we stay out here all night."

"So soon?" Felicity mourned.

"I know." Oliver kissed away her frown. "Don't worry, we'll do this again. Preferably tomorrow night?"

Felicity laughed. "I don't know if Digg and Roy will like the sound of that."

"Don't worry about them," Oliver said absentmindedly, capturing her lips again. "I'll work it out. Go out with me tomorrow night." He kissed her a little harder and a little longer.

Felicity moaned. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Queen," she murmured into his mouth. "The answer is yes."

She felt Oliver's lips stretch into a smile as he wrapped his arms around her.

After a long minute, he broke the kiss and released her. "Let's get you home."

xoxoxoxo

As soon as they got off the motorcycle in front of Felicity's apartment complex, Oliver reached for her hand and didn't let go. They walked into her building and waited for the elevator in contented silence, communicating in gazes and touches—a lingering look, a squeezing hand, the tucking of hair behind her ear. Once in the elevator, he pulled her into his arms and took advantage of the ride up to her floor to indulge in her lips again. He couldn't get enough.

They reached her floor far too soon for his liking, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of her apartment door. She turned to face him.

"Well, this is me," she stated jokingly.

He smiled widely. "Did you have a good time tonight?"

Felicity smiled. "I did, thank you." She looked deeply into his eyes for a moment, then pulled him in for a hug. "Thank you," she repeated in his ear, softly and full of meaning.

"Yeah," he murmured in reply. He pulled back to capture her lips with his, taking in her flavor, her texture, the feel of her tongue stroking against his. He drank her in with all his senses, trying to memorize this first goodnight kiss between them. His fingers brushed the back of her neck, playing with her hair, while his other hand held her hip, his thumb rubbing circles into her waist. He breathed in her perfume, something that was fruity and floral, mingling with the scent of her hair, which still had some product in it. He could just barely taste the mint chip ice cream still lingering in her mouth. He listened as her breath quickened in time with his, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, beating quickly.

He slowly, gradually eased up on the kiss, respecting her desire to be patient and take their physical relationship slowly. He finally pulled away to see Felicity looking up at him with a dreamy expression on her face. She looked so adorable in that moment, he couldn't help but plant one final kiss on her lips.

"Goodnight, Felicity."

"Goodnight, Oliver." With that, she entered her apartment, and with one last lingering look, she closed the door.

Oliver slowly turned on his heel, a small smile on his face and an even bigger smile in his eyes, and made his way home.

He was already looking forward to tomorrow.

xoxoxoxo

Felicity went through her bedtime routine in a semi-daze, replaying their entire date like a movie in her mind. Her thoughts lingered on all the big moments as well as all the small moments and everything in between. Just as she was getting into bed, her phone buzzed with a text. Knowing immediately that it was Oliver, she opened the message.

_I'm glad we did this tonight._

Felicity smiled. She typed out her response _(me, too)_, and added a kissing emoji. She imagined him settling in for the night, clutching his phone like she was clutching hers, waiting for each other's reply with baited breath. She didn't need to wait long.

_I don't know how to do that, but here's me kissing you back xo_

Felicity laughed. The man was brilliant but technologically challenged sometimes.

_I'll show you again,_ she texted.

_Thank you._

There was a long enough pause that she thought they were done texting for the night, and was about to put her phone on her nightstand when it buzzed in her hand again.

_Lunch at Big Belly tomorrow?_

Felicity's eyebrows shot up. _That's not the date, is it?_

_No, business lunch. I have other plans for dinner._

Felicity smiled. _Okay._

_Great, see you in 12 hours. xo_

She smiled again. _Goodnight Oliver._

_Goodnight, Felicity._

Felicity held her phone to her chest, feeling his affection through the words on her screen. She searched for her charger cable and plugged it into her phone, and fell asleep with it held against her heart.

_To be continued..._

**A/N Thank you all for the favorites/follows/reviews to this story! You've made this first time fanfic writer feel very welcomed. For those of you who have been following the Arrow spoilers this summer, this story started from the one where we were told Oliver was going to ask Felicity out on a date. It grew from there. I began this story with the intention of playing it somewhat close to canon, but I can't pretend that anymore, not after all the other spoilers we've received. So, this is essentially AU at this point. Think of it as a little bit of fluff in the face of an angsty storm coming our way in Season 3. (Not that this fic is devoid of angst...we all like a little bit here and there, don't we? What does that say about us?) Anyway, you can look forward to a second date in the near future, and also a third date. (Although, i'm going to post THAT inevitable chapter only on AO3, because I don't want my fic to be booted off here.) There are also drabbles in my head set in the future of an established Olicity. So, there's that.**

**There are too many reviews to respond to one by one, and I've tried to reply to as many of you as possible, so for all of you guest reviewers, THANK YOU! Thanks for reading and taking the time to review. And to all the lurkers out there, I love you too. I was a lurker for many years, so I get you. No worries.**


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